Frangibility
by Cerulean Pen
Summary: Tragedy has always seemed to favor the Seville and Miller families, and now, it's making rounds again. But it has happened before. Hasn't it?


Frangibility

Summary: Tragedy has always seemed to favor the Seville and Miller families, and now, it's making rounds again. But it has happened before. Hasn't it?

English Tragedy/Family Rated: T Chapters:1 Words: Alvin S.

Alvin Seville awoke to a vacant bedroom, his thoughts clouded by the visit to the realm of sleep. Rubbing his navy eyes, he surveyed the dim area, taking note that his brothers were both absent from their typical spots. They would arrive soon enough though; it was only a matter of minutes before the cycle reengaged after a night's rest.

His cell phone was abandoned on the nightstand, the slim device warm from the amount of text messages it had received while he rested. With a soft yawn, Alvin switched the phone on, scrolling through his inbox and selecting a more recent update from Eleanor. The words were scrambled, almost incomprehensible, but Alvin had experienced the technological world longer than others, and managed to decipher the jumble.

_Both death. Send help. Save me._

Ah. Ellie always panicked in the hours preceding the dawn, always whisking them away to hospitals and funeral homes. It struck him odd that they were the two left behind. Maybe he should use that to his advantage one day. Not today though. It was Monday. Back to school.

Deciding to utilize his spare time, Alvin tossed the phone into his discarded knapsack, which rested on the bare desk. Soon enough, it would be cluttered with paraphernalia: papers, writing utensils, headphones, novels, cologne. He grinned faintly at the thought of it, and trudged into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Minutes later, steam escaped the enclosed scope, accompanied by an almost imperceptible sob.

In the dawn's glow, two transparent figures began to take form, eclipsed by the fire of the rising sun. Slowly, almost like a dance, they solidified, filling in like an artist painting their opus. With dazzling grace, they slid into the previously unoccupied beds, a pair of Sleeping Beauties awaiting their wake.

Light fur slicked against his flesh, Alvin stepped into the bedroom, shivering at the stark contrast in temperature. He had his back turned to the set of mattresses, rummaging through his dresser drawers in search of decent clothes. The crimson shirt that had been in shreds last night was folded neatly atop his denim jeans, free of even the slightest wrinkle. His heart landed on the floor; goose bumps adorned his exposed arms.

"Hey, Alvin, did you take a shower?"

Simon was propped upright on an elbow, his steel eyes squinting without the aid of his spectacles. His tawny tresses were tousled from sleep, the only flaw on an otherwise healthy body. Alvin struggled to prevent the onslaught of images from the day before, managing a feeble grin that failed to allude his erudite brother. "Oh, yeah. You know, just thought I'd start the day off early. Drive to school."

"Really? Usually I'm dragging your lazy ass out of bed five minutes before school starts." Simon smirked, but he was playful, light in his demeanor and he tossed the blankets off his torso. "I think I'll take one too. I don't recall showering the night before." He grabbed a cerulean shirt and khaki shorts to don after he was done, and cast his older brother a final smile. "See you downstairs."

"See you." The words were elicited by instinct, permanently engraved into his memory by the stylus of pain. Alvin turned away, shutting his eyes and clenching his fists, breaths ragged. Seeing Simon like that, so pleased with being alive…it was enough to kill him.

"Alvin?" The quiet voice interrupted his precursor of a breakdown, belonging to the youngest Seville. Theodore gazed up at Alvin with a somewhat frightened expression, having never experienced such strange behavior from him. "Alvin, are you okay?"

The luminescence highlighted the strength of his jaw, the caramel fur swept lazily across his forehead. He was no longer a child; he was growing, becoming someone so different from the vulnerable Chipmunk he had been just years ago. Alvin had the sudden urge to hold him, to capture the moment of love, pour out his tale of woe and have somebody assure him that everything was going to be all right.

"I'm okay, Teddy. I'm going to be just fine."

:::::

It was always a major relief to see Dave when he reached the kitchen, even if the older man was rather cross or behind schedule. "Hey Alvin," he mumbled to the chrome-plated sink, one hand employed in knotting his tie, the other in clutching a ceramic mug of coffee. The scarlet-clad Chipmunk slid into the booth built into the corner of the tiled room, where a box of cereal and a wilted flower rested.

"Late for a meeting, Dave?" Alvin inquired coolly, despite the fact he already knew the answer. The dark-haired producer nodded absently, dashing into the living room to collect his possessions necessary for work. Ever since the trio dropped out of the music business, Dave had acquired a job producing albums for other bands. It paid well, but left Dave nothing short of exhausted as he burned the candle on both ends everyday.

"Very late," Dave corrected, downing the remaining coffee with astounding speed. "Uh, I'm going to be home by six though, I'll bring home dinner. If you drive to school today, remember to lock the car. Simon's going to be staying after school, he has a ride, but Theodore probably needs a ride home."

"Sure. We may swing by the girls' house, stay for a while. Teddy and Ellie have some sort of project." Alvin stared the cereal down, as if expecting it to open up and pour its contents for him. He had a distinct loss of appetite, but served himself a latte to replenish his low energy levels. "Bye Dave."

He paused for a brief second, one foot out the door. There was a note of anguish in his son's voice, dismissible but present nonetheless. "Bye Alvin, I'll see you tonight." Dave then sprinted into the garage, leaving the door swinging behind him. Alvin strived to attain that image in his mind, the image of Dave in the doorway, light surrounding his form.

_"Bye Alvin, I'll see you tonight."_

Simon was downstairs first, his hair meticulously parted and gelled. Even appearances came down to a science for him. "Hey, did Dave leave already?" The bespectacled teenager approached the refrigerator, withdrawing a carton of orange juice and a fresh glass. He wasn't aware he was the only member of the family to actually use a glass, but they would never admit it. Simon was not one for unsanitary behavior.

"Yeah, he was late for a meeting." He swallowed the bitter brew, no longer enjoying the taste. It reminded him greatly of what was to come, the threat looming on the horizon, as intimidating as an impending hurricane. "I'm driving. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm taking my car to the girls' house to pick up Jeanette. Her SUV's in the shop. Strangest thing. The engine looks so odd, like it belonged in a wrecked car instead of a fairly new one. Teddy's riding with me, and we'll be picking up Ellie and Britt." Simon placed the carton back on the icy shelf, gulping down the citrus drink like it was his savior. "You should ride with us. It would be easier."

"Nah, I need to take the car to school so I have a ride for me and Theo. We may take the girls home, too." Alvin tossed the half-filled cup in the garbage, contriving an idea that had not struck him in years. "Heh. Remember when life was easy and we all took the bus?"

"And you threatened to throw something out of the window everyday. Yeah, my glasses still remember," Simon replied, nudging his brother's shoulder with a soft chuckle. The steps creaked once more, delivering Theodore, attired in an emerald sweatshirt and blue jeans. Crisp autumn air was just outside the door, beckoning them to release their bonds and be young again.

_Like that's ever going to happen._

"Might want to grab something and go Theo, we're running behind," Simon called over his shoulder, removing a plain bagel from the top cabinet. He stuffed the round into his mouth, his hands busy with gathering his backpack, cell phone, and car keys. Theodore, panicked at the prospect of selecting a single breakfast item, arranged half the pantry in his pack. "Bye Alvin!"

"See you at school!" Theodore added, following his brother out of the house. Alvin urged his vocal cords to act, to utter a single syllable bidding them farewell, but he was silent. His siblings were gone in an igniting of an engine and the growl of the garage door.

The Chipmunk left the table, stepped up to the refrigerator, and found himself face to face with the eight-year-old version of himself. He was poised with a water gun, Brittany on his left, her auburn ponytail damp and her eyes bright. Simon and Jeanette were sharing a deck chair, towels draped over their shoulders, heads tilted towards one another's. Theodore and Eleanor waved from the pool, practically emanating cheer that was palpable through the photograph.

Alvin gently removed the picture from the magnets, carefully sliding it into his pocket. He needed something to remind him.

:::::

As he stepped into the rotunda of Sweet Valley High School, Alvin tried his best to keep the drive over out of his mind. The memories had been placed on the projector, frames flickering across the backs of his eyelids. He despised emotional outbursts, but it had poured out of him, through the cracks in his foundation. Alvin had switched on the radio, allowed himself to sob, beat his fists against the steering wheel.

There were bruises on his thumbs, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, almost crumpling the photograph. It had been happening for so long, yet he had never allowed himself to cry. No matter how uplifting it was on his soul, Alvin was humiliated he had even shed a tear. Tears were for children. For scrapes and breakups and depressing movies. Not now.

The maze of corridors were a pathway to oblivion, a dark nothingness that numbed his mind, body, soul like an anesthetic. He would sit down in homeroom, blink, and find his classmates filing out the door, heading for home. They were a river of bodies, floating down the hallways and tied down to chairs so teachers could pour knowledge into their heads. It was all so pointless, so trivial. He shouldn't even show up.

Alvin arrived at his locker, struggling to retrace the steps he had taken to it. Hadn't he been under the front archway seconds ago? Brow furrowed, he spun his lock combination and opened the door, unloading his textbooks on the shelf. Like he was trained to do so, Alvin selected the necessary notebooks and folders, sliding them into his backpack.

This was frightening. He slammed the door, jolting several nearby students. The spell cast over him, fogging his mind and controlling his movements, his very being, was growing stronger by the minute. Alvin scanned the sea, pinpointing Brittany Miller, hovering by her own locker. Desperate for someone to jerk him from this perpetual haze, he jogged over to her, tapping her gaunt shoulder.

She spun around, bordering defensive until she realized it was him. "Oh, hey Al." Brittany closed her locker, adjusting her roseate tote bag on the crook of her elbow. He chose to disregard how emaciated she looked in the pink tank top, save for the slight round of her abdomen. "Ready for another day in hell?"

It was as if she could read his mind. "Yep. Hell plus a biology test. We've got it easy, don't we Britt?" Alvin grinned slyly at his counterpart, hoping to incite something remotely jovial in her. Her strawberry lips curled into a smile, and she delivered a slight shove. Brittany's laughter was an ice cream bell above the white noise.

But it didn't last. It couldn't last. Within moments, Alvin was trapped, ensnared in the silent wind that swept him from reality and wrapped the satin sheets around his thoughts. It was like being buried alive, progressively losing sense of control. He fell sideways through the looking glass, nothing more than a set of flesh and bones that could nod at the appropriate times.

He was dying.

:::::

Calling them didn't work. Somehow, it found a way of happening. Alvin walked down the void hallway, his shoulders drawn tense at the thought of what was occurring. The world was still spinning, still going on around him, even though four lives would be obliterated soon. He ascertained the note pinned to his locker, the left corner blotched with vanilla.

_Ellie and I rode home together. I'll be home at six. Sorry about the late notice, but we need to get something done. See you later, Alvin._

It was the phrase of the day. _See you later. _The Chipmunk's fingers found the picture in his pocket, and he wished to touch that golden pool of magic, just once, once more. To smell chlorine and sand and ice cream. To laugh like there was a tomorrow. To be free.

Angry at the world, Alvin stalked into the parking lot, searching for his fire engine red pickup. One of the last vehicles, he climbed into the driver's seat, leaning against the steering wheel. The call would come any second now, he could feel the vibrations, sense the reluctance in the caller's motions.

His cell phone rang.

Alvin flipped it open, inhaled deeply, and clamped it to his ear. "Hello?" That was the cue for the fireworks to initiate, the spectacular display of grief and pity. _We are sorry to inform you that your guardian, David Seville, has passed away. He was found in an alleyway just outside of his place of work, apparently having been stabbed. We send you our deepest regards and sympathy, and wish you well._

_Click._

It wasn't easy, but it certainly never got harder. Alvin hurled the cell phone against the windowpane, satisfied when the device snapped in two. Shrapnels soared from the scene like lethal darts, scattering about the front seat. Breathing irregularly, he threw the car into drive, teeth gritted against the waves of emotions and words that screamed for acknowledgement. The word "orphan" reverberated against the caverns of his mind.

They were coming faster now, jigsaw puzzle pieces soaring at him like a train's headlight from the distance. His foot remained on the gas pedal, the streets whizzing past in a flurry of metal and flesh, set against a gray backdrop. Help, he needed help, he wanted help, he required help, help. This was flying, the tires scarcely in contact with the concrete anymore.

The house was a beautiful one, charmingly aged, with a lush yard, green shutters, and a slate roof. His home. His childhood oasis. _All roads lead back home. _Alvin felt volatile; the slightest imbalance would detonate him, blow him into a million deadly shards. His insanity slammed the door shut, cracking the frame. His insanity stomped through the foyer, shaking the mirror. His insanity-

The voice filled his ears, a sickeningly familiar voice pitched with hysteria. "SOMEBODY! HELP! My Teddy, he's dying! Stop, please! Somebody, help me! He won't wake up-oh, God, please!" A flash of blonde filled his vision, along with the skeleton of a vehicle, still smoldering, smoke curling into the cerulean sky.

"Please…" Alvin moaned, lowering to the floor with his head pressed against his knees. "Please, just make it stop. I don't want to do this anymore. I quit! Game over! YOU WIN, OKAY? Just please, don't make me go through with this anymore!"

The basement of Sweet Valley High School was aflame, the result of a confidential experiment gone horribly wrong. Students rushed to the scene, but they were far too late to possibly assist the two who had been laboring feverishly on said experiment. A violet ribbon dangled from a dislodged rafter, edges singeing.

"You've put me through this forever! Why won't you let me go? WHAT DID I DO, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?"

An auburn-haired Chipette dangled from an impromptu noose, her suicide note pinned to her pillow. It was an angst-fueled spiel about how she couldn't live with herself knowing she was both pregnant and too fragile to raise a child with Alvin Seville.

"THAT'S IT! I'VE GONE THROUGH THIS ENOUGH!" With an animalistic screech, Alvin tore into the hall closet, where the revolver was hoarded. It was loaded. Dave had purchased it with the intention of protecting his sons, foolishly believing they had no idea. It was loaded. Alvin could see his wild eyes in the polished metal. The image caused him to laugh uproariously.

"I'M FREE!"

_Click._

:::::

Alvin Seville awoke to a vacant bedroom, his thoughts clouded by the visit to the realm of sleep. He gingerly touched the side of his head, finding his skull to be intact. The cycle was about to start again: soon, his brothers would be climbing out of bed. Dave would be late for his meeting. In the next neighborhood, the girls would be waking to the sun.

Just like yesterday.

There was a heartbeat thumping from the beautiful house, but Alvin Seville was dead to the world.

**a/n: **This is a pitiful excuse for a story, I know. For those of you who lasted to the end, I congratulate you. Now, allow me to explain. I wanted to write a story that dealt with the amount of death in the fandom and the tragedy that strikes the six. It was a cliché, to be honest. (Brittany getting pregnant, an accident in Simon and Jeanette's lab, a car accident involving Theodore.) I chose Alvin and Eleanor to survive because, not only do they survive a large amount of stories, but they are stronger characters. If you didn't understand, Alvin is trapped in a time loop, where his family and friends die every single day. He's the only one aware of it, and it is driving him insane. And the worst part is, there's no way to end it. Even when he shoots himself, Alvin wakes up in his bed the next day. No matter what his vital signs say, he's dead to the world.

I'm not back to the archive, I just churned this little chestnut out for the fun of it. Please review, I appreciate criticism.


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